


Hey Jude

by all-i-need-is-destiel (Aleakim)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Airplanes, Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleakim/pseuds/all-i-need-is-destiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>prompt:<strong></strong></strong> “I just pictured Dean and Cas as strangers starting to sing/dance the same song in a public place.”</p><p> </p><p>  <strong>-</strong></p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Jude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashighasalways](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashighasalways/gifts).



> I’m not exactly sure that’s what you had in mind but that idea got stuck in my head and I really hope you’ll like it :)

It's cramped and hot and noisy and Dean hates every second of it.

Admittedly he despises airplanes on principle since they're huge metal beasts that will most likely take you to your early death where no one is able to find your body. He avoids them like the plague normally, even if they'd be equipped with a big pool, a casino and a zoo at the same time. He's got his car and a lot of patience, so why risk your life like that (and he always pretends to be deaf when people tell him that the chance to die in a car accident is way higher than during a plane crash)?

He's happy the way he is and he doesn't want to change a thing.

But then Sam decided to throw a huge party for his 25th birthday and since that moron lives in New York at the moment since he'll finish his studies and Dean wasn't able to take free from work early enough to drive with the Impala he was forced to grab this fucking plane and hope for the best.

Stupid little brothers and their puppy dog eyes!

Now he sitting in his uncomfortable seat inside that death trap and waits for the monster to wake up and rise to the sky.

And his heart is about to jump out of his chest.

He knows he's ridiculous since a lot of people fly every day and usually nothing awful happens. So it's not likely he'll meet death today. But he can't make that voice inside his head shut up for even a second.

So Dean closes his eyes and starts to hum, like he did in the lobby before. Hell, like he did in the cab on the way to the airport. He thinks about the Beatles-song his Mom used to sing to him, every night. It's calming and soothing and sometimes he can still hear her voice.

_“Hey Jude, don't make it bad  
Take a sad song and make it better ...”_

He still picks up the noises around him but they're not that intimidating anymore. He thinks about his mother's smile, about how she always used to say, _“Don't worry, baby, angels are watching over you”_ and he quietens down a bit.

Until he hears a chuckle beside him.

He opens his eyes and turns to the woman in the stewardess uniform who looks at him amused. And he can't help but grimace because it seriously seems like she's laughing at him.

Isn't it her job to make the passengers feel comfortable? To accept and lessen their fears and don't make a joke out of it?

The woman – Carrie, as her sign reads – seems to realize all of a sudden how her behavior must look like from the outside. Her eyes widen, shocked about herself.

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry,” she hastily apologizes. “I didn't mean … I wasn't laughing at you, sir … oh God!”

She seems seconds away from slapping herself.

“It's fine,” Dean says eventually. “A grown-ass man, singing to himself – it's a little pathetic, I know.”

“No, no, no!” Carrie nearly stumbles over her own words. “It's not that. Really, I wasn't laughing at you, believe me, sir. It's actually … I just thought ...”

Now Dean starts to laugh before the poor woman gets a panic attack or something. “Don't sweat yourself.”

She takes a deep breath. “I just thought … that song seems to be quite popular today.”

Huh?

“There is a man, a few rows behind you,” she starts to explain. “And he is singing the exact same song to his niece. The poor girl is flying for the very first time and is a little bit nervous.”

Dean frowns. Coincidence?

Carrie seems to read his mind. “He said to me he heard a man with the most beautiful voice singing that song in the lobby.” Now she's smiling widely. “He was probably talking about you, right?”

Dean blinks, dumbfounded.

And then he starts to blush furiously because _what_?

No one called his voice beautiful before. Hot, deep, sexy, annoying – that's what people say about it usually.

Not … well, _that_!

There was probably just another guy humming _“Hey Jude”_ in the lobby since … well. It just can't be him.

“Uh ...” he says, staring at the woman in front of him, not entirely sure what reaction she is expecting.

“He was _definitely_ talking about you,” she tells with conviction, undoubtedly trying to get back in his good graces. “May I bring you something, sir? A blanket? A coffee?”

She probably would have offered him the whole fucking plane as a gift if she'd have that power.

“A coffee sounds nice, thank you,” Dean answers with a charming smile. Cheeks red she promises to bring it right away and vanishes.

After that he turns around and hopes to catch a glance of the mysterious man with the faulty hearing but before he gets a clean picture of his surroundings the metal beast starts to move and Dean forgets anything else. He just grabs on dear life, shuts his eyes and hums in his head, desperately trying to shut out all the noises.

It's gonna be a _very long_ flight.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

He sings the song over and over again.

For an eternity, so it seems.

Okay, admittedly more like fifteen minutes but it still feels like the longest fifteen minutes in his life. At one point he simply stops because he's afraid he's annoying the elderly lady beside him immensely with the same song on repeat. But when she notices his distress she smiles and encourages him, “Keep going, boy, it's relaxing.”

So he does.

Until he can't ignore the call of nature anymore.

The weather is clear, the plane doesn't seem to make any trouble so it's the perfect time but Dean still waits until the very last second before he finally leaves his seat and runs for the bathroom. The small cell does nothing to calm his nerves so he tries to hurry up because he seriously doesn't want to die in the tiniest toilet on the fucking planet.

When he's about to return to his seat he finally hears it: The lyrics of _“Hey Jude”_ , sung by a deep and very soothing voice that immediately makes Dean forget anything else.

_“Hey Jude, don't be afraid  
You were made to go out and get her ...”_

The voice belongs to a dark-haired man who pets the girl's head beside him, obviously highly concentrating on calming her nerves down. The girl – the niece as the stewardess said before – smiles softly and listens intently.

And so does Dean.

He knows he looks like an idiot, standing right here and eavesdropping. But he can't help it. He thinks about home and safety and for one freaky second he even considers to sit down beside them and let the man pet his hair as well.

_Smooth, Winchester!_

While thinking about a way to keep his dignity in tact and still listen to this guy's voice he suddenly realizes that the song stopped and two pairs of eyes are looking at him curiously.

Dean blushes like he never blushed before in his life and avoids their gazes.

“Uh …” he says intelligently. He should probably just walk away and pretend that nothing happened but he can't force his feet to move.

“Can I help you?” The man's voice is gravelly and deep and Dean shudders involuntarily.

“Um … sorry,” he manages to croak. “I just heard you and ...”

The man stiffens all of a sudden. “Did it bother you?” the guy asks, now concerned he might have annoyed the other passengers.

“ _What_? No, not at all!” Dean hastily objects. “I just recognized the song and … it's one of my favorites ...”

The man starts to smile. “It's Claire's first flight. She's a little bit nervous.”

The girl, approximately nine years old, shoots her uncle a sharp glance as if he's confessing some huge secrets he's actually supposed to keep to himself.

“That song is very effective,” Dean offers. “I'm singing it to myself since I arrived at the airport. Otherwise I would go nuts.”

Claire grins amused while the guy's eyes widen (and _oh God_ , they're _so fucking blue_!) when he suddenly recognizes Dean from the lobby. He jumps up immediately and ignores Claire's puzzled expression.

“You heard me, didn't you?” Dean can't help to ask. All he's able to think about are the stewardess' words, _“the most beautiful voice”_.

Well, he can _definitely_ return the sentiment!

“Uh …” the man starts to articulate. “I just … I heard you while thinking of a way to distract Claire and I thought ...”

“And you thought it might work?” Dean offers. “Yeah, I hear you. But hey, the song seems to do his magic, your girl looks relaxed.”

 _More relaxed than me_ , he thinks by himself. But he wonders if that's because of the song or because of her stunning uncle.

“I'm Dean,” he introduces himself. “Dean Winchester.”

“Castiel,” the guy answers. “Castiel Novak. And that's my niece Claire.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dean says and means every word of it.

Castiel smiles brightly and for a second Dean thinks his brain shuts down. He doesn't even care when the plane makes a slight jump and he starts to swagger a little bit. How the hell would you be able to think about a possible death while watching in those gorgeous eyes?

“Um … where are you heading?” Dean attempts to strike up a conversation that doesn't involve lines like _“Please tell me your whole life story and, more importantly, your future plans”_.

Castiel looks around, clearly confused. “New York,” he states, frowning. “I thought that's fairly obvious?”

Dean blinks for a second, stunned to silence, but eventually he chuckles. “Yeah, it is. I meant, are you heading home or are you visiting someone?”

 _Please don't say 'home'. Please don't say 'home'_!

Understanding dawns on Castiel's face. “Oh, I see. Well, the hospital I work for makes me attend a highly important conference that lasts a few days.” He rolls his eyes, apparently convinced that all this is a waste of time and money. “But I was allowed to take someone with me so Claire's going to help me survive all this.”

“And we're gonna visit the Statue of Liberty,” the girl adds enthusiastically.

“Yes, that too.” Castiel looks at her fondly and the love in his eyes is that plain obvious Dean's insides start to squeeze.

“Um … I could recommend some other spots as well,” Dean tells them before he begins to blurt out something fairly embarrassing. “Places you don't necessarily find in the usual tourist guide.”

Castiel watches him intently. “So you live in New York?”

He sounds clearly disappointed now, doesn't even seem to bother hiding it, and Dean needs all his inner strength not to perform a dance of joy or something equally ridiculous.

“No,” he negates instantly. “My brother is studying over there, so I've visited New York quite a lot these past few years. Can't live without my baby brother for too long.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “But usually I take my car because I hate flying _so freaking much_. But this time it didn't work out.”

“I'm sorry,” Castiel says but he doesn't seem very sincere about it.

“Yeah, well, we can't change the past.” Dean shrugs and tries to appear unfazed. “But it's okay though. I'll survive. Hopefully.”

There's amusement in Castiel's eyes but he refrains from laughing out loud, apparently not entirely sure if Dean really made a joke or was downright serious. And it's utterly endearing how he considers Dean's feelings and doesn't wave off his fear like people did before in the past.

“Would you … would you like to sit with us?” Castiel points at an empty seat just right beside him. “My sister-in-law was supposed to accompany us but she needed to cancel the flight at the very last minute. And obviously the airline company didn't find a replacement in time.”

Coincidence? Destiny?

Dean doesn't know and doesn't really care. He's just more than happy to take the offer.

“Sure,” he says and tries not to look like a overjoyed puppy. “They're quite a lot spots in New York. It would clearly take a while to tell you all about them.”

Castiel smiles. “And if you or Claire will get nervous again, I could sing to both of you.”

Dean flushes furiously because apart from his Mom no one ever sang for him and it's makes him all warm and giddy inside. But Claire just groans and whispers, “ _Oh my God_ , Uncle Cas, I can't believe you just said that!”

Castiel looks quite mystified why it shouldn't be appropriate to speak what's on your mind and Dean can't help but grin.

He still hates airplanes and will till his dying day.

But he's more than happy that fate forced him to take this one.


End file.
